


On One of Their Birthdays

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Tom and Abigail Series [18]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Birthday Sex, F/M, Fingerfucking, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Riddles, Treasure Hunting, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Abigail unemployed, she has to get a little creative for Tom’s birthday.</p><p>
  <img/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	On One of Their Birthdays

**On One of Their Birthdays**

Tom and I graduated from friends with benefits to a couple about six weeks before his birthday snuck up on me. I wasn’t prepared in the least, not only because I didn’t know what to get him but I also had no means of getting him a gift. I lost my job with the BBC at the end of the year, and I was in the midst of auditioning to find another. My boyfriend was very supportive in helping in that area, by lending Luke’s services to me, getting my name, headshot and CV back in circulation, at least more than I could on my own.

I landed a few choice auditions for their troubles but I hadn’t been cast in anything yet though. I was running low on funds to pay my rent, let alone purchasing something to express how deeply I felt for Tom on his 31st birthday. I wasn’t destitute or akin to that, only had to be careful where I spent money, not knowing where my next job was coming from. I lacked skills in other areas, my only option was securing an acting job.

To make things worse, I had a callback for the day of his birthday. I didn’t have the luxury of turning it down or rescheduling. Of course, Tom, the beautifully patient and understanding man that he was for me, recognized work obligations and the desire to keep my flat instead of living out of a cardboard box. He wouldn’t let that happen to me, but we didn’t want to complicate us and our dynamic with worries of financial dependence or lending funds yet.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. You know I would prefer to spend the day with you than people that might steal my next job…”

He curled his arms around me tighter, pulling me into his warmth, kissing my temple and breathing in my scent. “I do know that, Abby. Nail that audition, get that part and we’ll celebrate after.”

“What will you do tomorrow?” absently surfing channels, trying to find something to watch on his massive telly. Nights like this were perfect for snuggling and curling around each other on the sofa with nowhere to be, light touches and caresses the only form of communication needed.

“Going out to visit my mum and Emma. They have a meal planned for me. I should be back about late evening. Will you meet me here afterwards?”

I looked up at him and coquettishly said, “Try and stop me.” He took my lips prisoner with his and didn’t release them again until morning.

In the bright light of day streaming through the window, the guilt of being separated from my boyfriend on his birthday revisited. He was up and out for a run early in the morning, so I took a few minutes before he returned to set some things up for that evening, a surprise specifically and tailored for him. Taking stock of the items, Tom had in his flat and I knew what I had at mine, I set out to do something special for him. I may have been strapped for cash, but that didn’t mean I could let the day go unnoticed, between me and him. He needed to know that I was grateful for the day he was born, because I cherished him and what we meant to each other.

Because I was shit at creating anything in the kitchen that resembled more than disaster and mayhem, dinner was out the question, but I could create romance for the two of us to share as a couple.

Sweaty and flushed Tom joined me in the shower when he returned from his daily exercise. We wrapped our arms around each other, sharing a bit of intimacy to start our day. “Can I use the spare key tonight, babe?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “You are free to use it whenever you like. You don’t have to ask, Abby. We’re beyond formalities.”

“Then you have a date for tonight when you return from seeing your family.”

“Is it that so?” He squeezed my fleshy backside, making my body align with his, the water fusing us together, the warmth of him gluing me to him. “Who’s my date?” he teased playfully before nipping my pouting lower lip.

“You’ll be in for a surprise when it’s your own right hand, if you don’t play your cards right.” Any more jokes quickly died in my throat as he rendered me completely speechless with a kiss that made my knees wobble under me. Breathlessly, after my mind was numbed senseless by his lips and tongue on me, I said, “Correct answer, Hiddleston.”

He giggled, squeezing me deliciously again, allowing me to feel the result of his kiss on his body. I reached up and touched his wet locks under the streaming water. He leaned into the stroke of my fingertips against his head. Turning the conversation before we got distracted into our desires, I said softly, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t spend the day with you or take you out.” He tried to shush me, but I placed my hand over his lips to force him to listen. “It won’t always be like this, Tom, I promise. I want to do something for you, for your day. With money tight at the mo, I can’t do much. But know that I love you, and meet me here tonight. We’ll come up with our own birthday party.”

Removing my hand from his lips, he looked at me seriously, “Any time, even now, it’s celebration enough for me, Abby. Please don’t feel bad. I know how much effort you’re putting out to get work, and your tenacity is impressive.”

“How do you know all the right words to say?”

“Talent,” he said around a huge smile.

“Happy birthday, ego-maniac!”

*

During the day, I sent Tom texts, a different text for all the qualities I loved about him, and thankful that he was in my life. It was just about the only thing I could come up with as a gift. As soon as I left his flat, I sent the first of his gifts.

‘Happy birthday, my beautiful man. I love you for how intelligent you are without being obnoxious about it. Don’t you dare answer this – Abby xoxo’

A little while later, I sent another: ‘Happy birthday, babe. I love you for the fun that we have in trying to outwit each other. – Abby xoxo’

I continued sending different messages, addressing all the traits I loved about him.

‘I love you for how dedicated you are to your craft and your family and me.’

‘I love you for how kind you are to me when I do something silly.’

I got one message back: ‘Am I allowed to answer yet? I love you too, baby. – T xx’

‘No, today is your day. I love you for how you make me laugh when we are together. And even when we’re not.’

‘I love you for how strong and sensitive you are.’

I sent about twelve different messages over the course of the day, interrupting his family time, letting him know that he was still on my mind, that I was still thinking of him. There was meant to be a text for every year that he’d been alive, but I got tired of typing. I reserved some of it for his actual gift, a handwritten letter I wrote over breaks in my day at the callback for the lead in Hedda Gabler.

After my callback that went extremely well, I stopped off at my flat to pick up some supplies before going to Tom’s place. I attached a note on his front door for him, instructions to follow for his birthday present. I created a trail of clues, close to a scavenger hunt, to my letter and eventually that led to me in his bedroom.

The first note read: ‘ _I have a face but no eyes, hand but no arms._ ’

A clock. He had to go to his clock in the hallway to get the next clue. I heard when he entered through the heavy front door and dropped his things on the hallway table. I finished lighting candles and setting a romantic atmosphere in his bedroom, minutes before he arrived and I was waiting patiently.

He called to me from the foyer, “Abby? My crazy girl.” I stayed quiet and where I was to let him find his way.

The second note, attached to the clock’s face, read: ‘ _I start with a “T” end with a “T” and have a “T” within me.’_

A teapot. I left it on the oven with the third note attached: ‘ _I must be broken before you can use me.’_

An egg. I stuffed the next note in the carton of eggs, to lead him to the next clue.

‘ _I am a box who holds keys but not locks. With the right combination I may unlock your soul.’_

His upright piano in his living room. This is where I left the letter for him to read, amongst the sheet music. I could listen to him shuffle from the kitchen to the living room.

‘Tom-

I wish that I was as good with words as you are. I wish that I was as eloquent and well-spoken as you are. Although I’m lacking in the vocabulary department, I mean every word of this letter and so much more than you could ever know or express in words.

I love you for all the things you are, optimistic, strong-willed, kind, sweet, dedicated, devoted, sensible. You put up with me, you love me, and you care for me. I love that you can be a complete nutter, and yet reel me in when I need calming. You are so supportive, and I respect the hell out of you for it.

I’m so lucky to know you, let alone be involved and in love with you. I love that you try to teach me things without being condescending about it. I love that you share your work with me, and how animated you get about it. Your enthusiasm for your work is remarkable and so are you. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished and how you are always looking ahead. Your optimism and your want to be better and grow is an inspiration.

Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for loving me, and allowing me to love you. I wish that I could’ve cooked you a nice dinner, or taken you to a nice restaurant or spent the day with you. I’m grateful for the day you were born because you are here and you are amazing. Please don’t ever forget that.

I love you powerfully!

Your Abigail

Last clue: I am a mountain at night, meadow at day. Where am I?’

I heard the scrape of the piano bench legs along the hardwood floor and the determined gait of his steps on the way to the bedroom. From the moment he entered his room, an atmosphere of romanticism descended over us. He found me in my birthday suit in the middle of his bed, bathed in nothing but candlelight. The flickering amber glow of his room was warm and inviting.

Tom toed off his boots and peeled his blazer from his shoulders as he closed the gap between the door and his bed. He breathed out, “Abigail.” The whisper was that of a deep abiding admiration and eternal commitment. He put his knees upon the bed, the mattress depressing under his weight, and crawled up over me like a panther.

He hovered there, propped up on his elbows and knees, gazing down at me with amazement and affection, with a touch of humility for all I’d done for him. “You did all of this for me?”

I shrugged slightly and reached up to take his face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the lines of his prominent cheekbones. “It was all I could do, babe.”

“Abigail, my heart, all of today, all of your messages… I’m astonished that you found a way to floor me completely and utterly.”

“I wanted to do something for you. I couldn’t let the opportunity to shower you with affection pass.”

He lowered his body over mine, blanketing me with him, surrounding my aura with his. He kissed me softly on the lips and said sincerely, “All of this was more than something. In all honesty, I’ve suspected your feelings for me all along, from the beginning, that first day in front of the mirror. All these months, I felt your love for me, but never like today. You amaze me, so passionate, so affectionate, so enthusiastic…” His eyes roamed over my face trying to devour me with those intense blue orbs.

Pulling him down to me, arms around his neck, he let his weight rest on me as I murmured, “All for you, birthday boy.”

The intensity of our kiss was mesmerizing and intoxicating, everything we were together. I widened my thighs at the same time he insinuated himself between them. My skin, already hungry and thirsty for his, accepted the roughness of the clothes he still wore, singing with the effect. The cotton of his stiff white shirt scrapped across my aching nipples and the material of his pants clawed at the inside of my thighs. Scorching heat ignited between us, the burning desire starting to blossom and consume us.

We were prisoners to our lust for one another, slaves to yearning, neither one of us with the inclination to be free of it. His tongue snaked in between my lips, plundered my mouth, leaving no part of me untasted by him. Delirious, heady arousal moved my hands down his back, grazing over the expanse of his shoulders, desperate for more contact. I moaned into his mouth, communicating as lovers do that I needed more, wanted more and he was the only one to provide it.

Thrusting his hardened length against my center, I whimpered loudly, grasping him, begging him to do it again. He pulled out of our kiss and I made a small noise in the back of my throat in protest. “I fear I’m highly over dressed for all the things I plan to do to you.”

Dazed by his kiss and the spell he so quickly cast over my body, it took me a moment to catch on. I objected to his statement, “It’s your birthday, I should be giving you all the sexual favors.”

As he raised up off of me and out of the bed, going for the tie and buttons on his shirt first, he winked at me lasciviously. “Abby, my girl, I take great pride in seeing that you get off. I’m going to make you climax as many times as humanly possible, until you plead with me to stop, pass out or you are nothing more than a twitching mass of flesh, completely incapable of speech. That’s the greatest gift you could give me.”

I was stunned to silence, unable to agree or disagree, and looking forward to whatever he had planned. He stepped easily out of his clothes, and joined me back on the bed completely nude, but carrying his dark tie with him. As he climbed over me again, he sternly ordered, “Hands above your head, beautiful.”

This was new. He always took command, he was the more dominant of us. He would never hurt me so I followed his direction. He leaned over me, placed a kiss on each wrist, before crossing and securing his tie so I was bound. He then tied the end to the headboard, giving me enough lead to move a bit. With his pointer fingers, he followed the curves of my arms from wrist to shoulder, so lightly, I shivered with arousal.

He kissed me softly on the corners of my mouth, after watching my skin alight with gooseflesh. “You’ll have to be careful. I can’t have you damaging that gorgeous skin of yours. Will you be good, my Abigail?”

Biting my lower lip in anticipation, I nodded, gazing into his eyes, trusting him completely. Excited nervousness thrummed through me, beating along my nerve-endings, increasing my heart rate. Anxiously, I huffed, “Tom!”

“Sh, my Abby. Trust me.” His hands palmed my breasts gently, molding the flesh, squeezing tenderly. He nibbled at my neck, pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pulling pants of pleasure. “So gorgeous,” he whispered into my skin, his breath and lips brushing my skin below my ear. He eased down, licking my collarbone, my racing pulse, biting my neck. His hands continued the manipulation on my chest, stroking the embers of lust again.

His hands skimmed down my ribcage, sliding to my waist, worshipping my skin. His mouth eagerly took up teasing my breasts, his hand slipping lower. “My love,” he murmured against the valley at my sternum. He tucked his hand against my sex, his finger dipping slightly into my heat. I shimmied my hips against the provoking touch, looking for more. “Tell me what you want, Abby.”

He bit down on my engorged nipple, forcing a loud, “Ah!” from my lungs, as my back bowed off the mattress. “Touch me!” He buried two fingers into my weeping center, pulling another wordless cry from me. I tugged at the binding at my wrists, wanting touch him, reward him for the pleasure.

His tongue swirled around my hardened peak of my breast as his fingers ravaged my opening below. My pelvis elevated off the bed, matching the coil of need, of want, of hope twisting in my belly. I gasped out his name over and over, rivaling the pace of his fingers in and out, in and out. His thumb finally took pity and pressed into my clit before working it in a circular motion, fine tuning and finding the perfect pitch from within me. I sucked in a lungful of air, arched my back and froze as my orgasm washed over me.

I collapsed against the bed, feeling the waves of pleasure course through me, my breath wheezing out of my heaving chest, stars flashing behind my eyelids. Tom eased me down from my high with grounding caresses across my abdomen. His mouth attached to the underside of my right breast and left a love bite there, his way of claiming me, branding me as his. I sighed happily as the last ripple pulsed through my core and Tom licked across his mark on me.

Tom adjusted his position on the bed, lifted my legs to his shoulders and rested his head between my thighs. He held my hips fast between his hands and lowered his mouth to my heat. With a sure and exacting lick, his tongue traced the length of my folds, tasting my arousal that only he was responsible. He moaned into me, enjoying the taste of me, pleasing me in the process. I groaned in frustration at the teasing sensation, my fingers itching to comb through his hair, to hold him to me.

I could sense his urgency to get some relief from his erection in the way his mouth performed on me. He usually took his time, alternating between his tongue, lips and teeth. Tonight with all the seduction, all the anticipation, he sucked my bundle of nerves at the top of my sex harshly with hollow cheek while flicking with his tongue. He sang, crooned, trilled and chorused into the small nub, the vibration clenching my fists stuck above my head. I soared, my breath stolen from my lungs again as my second climax ripped through me. I screamed his name from my diaphragm, pulling at my tied hands, trying to get a handle on the moment. My heart pounded in my chest from the shock of it, my limbs shook with release, and my inner walls rhythmically contracted and relaxed. All Tom could do was drink from me, enjoying the taste, reveling in my response to him.

Without much hesitation, his patience worn thin, he kneeled up, keeping my legs over his shoulders and filled me with sure thrust of his hips. The force of the pressure into me sent another bolt of pleasure to my over sensitized button, one orgasm rolling into another. Tom halted his plunge to give me time to recover, biting back the instinct to move and to let his own rapture consume him. “Exquisite Abby, gorgeous…” he hummed softly, quieting my gasps and sighs.

As I caught my breath, my channel acclimating to his length seated deep, deep, deep within me, Tom led my legs from his shoulders to his hips, longing to be closer to me. Covering me with him, I pulled at my restraint once more, forgetting that I was held to the headboard. My voice hoarse from overuse, I reminded him, “Tom, I need to hold you. Please…”

Reestablishing our fervent kiss from earlier, he shared the taste of my delight in him, savoring my wetness on his tongue. With a flick of his hand, he granted me mercy and freed my hands to clutch him to me. We stayed locked together with only our mouths angling against one another, melding into one being, breaths and heartbeats in tune as one.

When he finally moved, I moved with him, our being melting together as our hearts had months ago. “I love you, my sweet Abigail.”

“I love you, my beautiful man.”

Our love making was slow, gentle, appreciating our bodies and our love for one another. It didn’t matter than I couldn’t give him a gift, our special brand of romance wasn’t over the top, grand gestures, rather finding other ways of expressing our feelings in our everyday. That was how our relationship worked, a constant stream than an outpouring for a special occasion.

My body was fatigued from Tom’s overzealousness in staying true to his word, but he was able to pull a very reluctant orgasm from me. My climax granted his, and he collapsed on top of me, almost just as tired as me. The action sprung tears to my eyes, my muscles trembled and we both ached with exhaustion. The euphoria made me dizzy and drunk with endorphins, and the tears came before I could stop them.

I tried to sniffle them back, but they persisted, and Tom caught on. After our liaison and we returned to ourselves, he propped himself up on his elbows to check on me. His hands moved to hold my head, his thumbs padding the tears away. His eyebrows knitted together, “What’re these tears about, baby?”

I giggled a little, tears still streaming down my cheeks. “I don’t know actually.” He kissed the tip of my nose as he untangled from me, carefully pulling me into his arms. I snuggled, burrowed and nestled as closely as possible, not wanting anything to come between us. “Overwhelmed, overcome, overwrought, overdone and certainly overly dramatic.”

“That’s a great number of overs.”

“If I could think after all of that, I’m sure there would be more.”

He kissed the top of my head, and ran his hand over my hair in the way that made me swoon. “Thank you for today, Abby. Even though we couldn’t be together, you were still with me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

I giggled again lightly, suppressing a yawn, my eyes still watering, “You could ask for an iPad or a new watch because I keep taking off with yours, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get it.”

“I have all I want, all I need… with you, silly woman.”

“If I’m honest, I got bored with the typing, which is why you got the letter…  and there were meant to be a lot more clues on your scavenger hunt too.”

“You got bored there too, huh?”

“I’m not very well equipped in riddles, babe. I cheated and asked some of the girls at the callback this afternoon.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“Happy birthday, babe.”


End file.
